Moonlight Pleasures
by Bisclavret
Summary: It is the nature of Immortals to hunt and kill their own kind, however, sometimes things are not always as they would seem. Contains M/F sex and mild bondage . My first fan fiction, just a one shot, hope you enjoy it. Your comments appreciated.


**Moonlight Pleasures**

**By**

**Bisclavret**

The moon was full, her face hidden by dark clouds as they made their way slowly and gracefully across the night sky, escorted by a warm September breeze. Had she not been temporarily blinded by the thickening cloud, her silver light would have revealed the figure of a tall man, clad entirely in black, as he glided effortlessly across the lawn, keeping to the deeper patches of shadow until he reached the open window. With one relaxed, sinuous movement, he was inside and looking warily about him. As his eyes adjusted, he slowly, seemingly impossibly, drew a sword from his clothes. As the moon reappeared to wink momentarily between the clouds, her luminescence was reflected by the blade of the katana, turning it to a weapon of molten silver.

The man in black lowered the blade expertly and with a flick of his wrist, tucked it under his arm, effectively sheathing its deadly form so that only the tip showed above his right shoulder. He glanced around the room, all was still and silent. Moving as a shadow, he made his way noiselessly up the narrow staircase that led to the upper floor, mounting each tread carefully. As he reached the upper level he hesitated momentarily, alert for any sound or movement in the stillness of the house. There was none. Satisfied, he progressed stealthily to the bedroom door which had been left slightly ajar, a sliver of moonlight emanating from the gap. His left hand reached out and pushed the door open, ever so slowly, aware that the slightest sound might alert the occupant and rob him of his advantage.

Like a wisp of smoke, he slid his lean form between the door and the frame, still carefully keeping his sword sheathed beneath his arm so only the razor sharp tip caught the glimmer of moonlight as he entered the room. His long, dark hair, held back from his face by the bandana he wore, gypsy style on his head, stirred in the soft breeze from the open window as he looked over at the bed and smiled. As he had expected, his quarry was sleeping soundly and was totally unaware of his presence. She was as good as his.

She lay on her side, facing him, one long, pale leg resting on top of the duvet which had been thrown carelessly back to allow the night air to cool her skin. Even in the semi-darkness of the room, he could see her eyelids pulsating rapidly as she dreamed and the almost imperceptible movement of her exposed shoulder as she breathed in and out evenly. From her shoulder, his eyes followed the length of her slim arm, also outstretched across the duvet, to her hand, which twitched slightly as it lay just over the edge, inches from the sword leaning against the small table next to the bed. He reached for the weapon and lifted it carefully, turning it over and looking down its length, appreciating the fine workmanship and balance. He held it expertly, then swung it, with shallow strokes from the wrist as he sent it arcing, slicing the air around him, his movements fluid and totally controlled, before stepping back and depositing the sword behind him, point down, into the thick carpet and the wooden floor beneath. The slender sword quivered momentarily with the impact, swaying like a metronome, sending shards of reflected, silver moonlight dancing over the bed and its occupant.

Woken by the soft thud as the point of the sword struck the bedroom floor, she shook her head in an attempt to clear the cloying residue of her dream. She murmured something unintelligible as she reached sleepily for the sword, but grasped only at empty air. She opened her eyes and he momentarily savoured her confusion as she looked at the empty space where her sword should have been and her senses fought to identify the source of the sound that had awoken her. He waited unmoving, giving her the opportunity to gather her thoughts, just enough time to be aware of her situation, but not enough to spoil the advantage he had gained.

She rolled onto her back, her eyes straining in the darkness as she stared at the black figure silhouetted by the moonlight. She was unable to see his face as his back was to the window, so she didn't see him grin, but heard the amusement in his low, rich tone as he spoke.

"Are you looking for this?"

He indicated the sword as it still swayed and shimmered in the silver glow of the moon. She blinked and sat up, realisation of her vulnerable position dawning as her head slowly cleared. She fought to keep her tone even, but the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her fear.

"What do you want?"

He didn't answer, but she felt rather than saw him smile as she watched him unsheathe his sword from beneath his arm with a flick of his wrist. He held it loosely, but with deadly grace as he stepped forward, the point of the blade stopping just short of her throat. She swallowed convulsively and slid slowly away from him across the bed, but he reached out, placing the flat of the cold metal to the side of her neck as he warned her.

"Stay exactly where you are…don't move."

Her breathing quickened and he could see the beating of the pulse at her collarbone as she mentally steeled herself to face the reality of her situation.

"I'm unarmed. If you've come for my head…let me have my sword."

He laughed softly as he moved closer to the head of the bed, his sword still placed gently against her neck. The moonlight touched the left side of his face and revealed the predatory look in his dark eyes as he watched her.

"I've not come for your head."

Instantly, a look of confusion was back on her face and she frowned, "then what.."

Without letting her finish her question, he commanded "hold out your hand."

"Why?"

Impatiently, "just do it!"

She felt the cool metal stir at her neck and quickly held out her left hand. He reached behind his back and removed a pair of steel handcuffs from the leather pouch attached to his belt. He leaned forward and quickly snapped the steel band snugly around her wrist then secured the other end to the black, wrought iron headboard. She looked at her secured wrist and he saw panic rising in her eyes as she pulled against the metal. With the katana still at her throat, he instructed her to slide down the bed and lie on her back. She did instantly. He reached behind him, took out the second pair of cuffs and held them up.

"Now the other one."

She hesitated, once he had her other wrist secured she would be entirely at his mercy, but with his sword pressed against her throat, she really had no choice. She extended her right arm, slowly. He smiled as he leaned forward and snapped the second cuff into place around her wrist then reached over her to secure it to the other side of the head board, all the time keeping the blade of his sword against her neck. She closed her eyes tightly as she turned her face away from him, anticipating what was sure to come next, despite his denial of wanting her head. She felt the katana leave her neck and waited, the muscles in her shoulders and back tense as the moment seemed to last forever. Just one swift stroke of the gleaming blade would separate her head from her body and she would die…forever. It seemed like an eternity that she waited for the final stroke, but when it didn't come, she opened her eyes again and slowly turned her face towards him. He had already placed his sword by the side of the bed, where hers had been only minutes ago and stood, watching her as her expression changed from one of relief to apprehension as she started to struggle against her confinement.

He could easily take her head, but he had other things on his mind. His eyes travelled from her face, down her body to the rise and fall of her breasts, to her slim waist, flat belly and long, shapely legs. She wore a white, satin nightdress with lacy panels which did little to hide her lithe body as she twisted and pulled at the handcuffs securing her in this vulnerable position. Her nightdress had ridden up to her thighs, but she hadn't noticed, so intent was she in her efforts to free her wrists.

He leaned over her and she stopped struggling, relaxing momentarily, but watching him warily as he drew closer. He reached out, grasped the rumpled duvet and threw it behind him, onto the floor. The opportunity was too good to miss, her calves and thighs pressed together, she twisted as far as she could onto her side, drew up her knees and aimed a kick at his groin. He sidestepped easily then threw himself onto the bed planting his knees firmly on the mattress, either side of her thighs, his weight preventing any further movement from the lower half of her body. Her eyes flashed angrily, reflecting the molten silver of the moonlight completely bathing her pale skin. She hissed at him through clenched teeth "who are you, what do you want?"

He smiled, showing even, white teeth "I'm Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod and…I want you, preferably with your pretty head attached."

He reached down, his warm hand caressing her cheek, the ball of his thumb lightly tracing her parted lips, before his hand slid down her throat, coming to rest on her right breast, making his intentions very clear.

She started to pull at the cuffs earnestly, her legs and torso straining in an effort to dislodge him, but he held her firmly. She raised her head from the pillow as far as she could and screamed at him "Get off me you bastard!"

Unable to keep the amusement from his voice, he admonished her "temper, temper, that's not very polite."

Furious she screamed at him again "You…untie me, let me have my sword… fight me you cowardly bastard!!"

His expression serious this time, but with amusement dancing in his dark eyes, his free hand slipped the thin strap from her left shoulder, exposing her breast. He took her pink nipple between his finger and thumb and rolled it gently, causing it to harden "I've no intention of fighting someone as lovely as you, but if you don't stop screaming at me, I'll have to gag you."

She grunted as she shoved again with her hips, unsuccessfully trying to throw him off, her eyes narrowed angrily as she glared at him, her jaw stiff and defiant. "What's the matter?" she spat his name with as much derision as she could muster "Duncan MacLeod…" and taunted him "Are you afraid to fight me, are you afraid a woman will kick your immortal arse?"

"I warned you didn't I?" He slipped the bandana from his head, opened it to its full length, tied a double knot in the centre and forced it between her lips as she opened her mouth to retort. He pulled the loose ends behind her head then knotted them tightly at the nape of her neck, under her long hair. She immediately thrashed her head from side to side trying to loosen the gag, but when she realised that it was too firmly tied, she tried to speak and was surprised to find that her voice was muffled and her speech unintelligible.

She stopped struggling and rested her head back on the pillow in capitulation, but her eyes still burned into him above the gag.

He smiled "that's better, now relax", then his expression grew serious again as he told her "I promise, I'm not going to hurt you."

She moaned through the gag and blinked, the anger gone from her face as she pushed at him again with her hips half-heartedly, knowing that her situation was hopeless, that he had the upper hand.

Seeing the resignation in her eyes, he eased himself up slightly, reducing the pressure on her legs. He bent over her, his unbound hair brushing her chest and throat as he dipped his head down and took her exposed nipple into his mouth, sucking, then nibbling it gently with his teeth. Her nipple hardened immediately and he heard her sharp intake of breath through the gag as his tongue circled and licked the sensitive nub. His lips moved to her throat, kissing her flesh on the way as he slipped the strap from her other shoulder, exposing her right breast. His mouth, hot, attended to her right nipple, sucking and licking as his hand caressed her, moving leisurely to her belly until his fingers touched the hair that covered the sweet place between her legs.

MacLeod felt her wriggle beneath him and heard the soft clink of chain against metal as she tested the limits of the restraints again. He shifted his weight slightly to one side as his knee gently nudged her legs apart and his fingers entered her. She moaned again, the low sound still muffled by the gag, but this time not with anger or resignation, but with passion. Her hips rose slightly to meet his hand as he rubbed her clitoris and her warm dampness covered his fingers. She moaned again louder as her back arched, the sensations she was feeling controlling her traitorous body which moved to meet his intimate caresses of its own volition. She shook her head, trying to speak, but her words were swallowed by the cloth filling her mouth. He pressed her mercilessly, his hand and fingers rubbing, caressing, as his mouth kissed and licked her throat, her breasts, her belly as it explored her bare flesh where he had slid her nightdress up to expose her soft, pale skin. It was not long before she climaxed, shuddering and moaning as she writhed against him, growing warm and wet, throbbing inside, as her body leapt violently, uncontrollably until it finally relaxed with a sigh. A lethargy enveloped her, emanating from the warmth pulsing inside her, spreading to her limbs, liquefying them so they no longer felt like her own. He watched as she turned her head to one side, unable to look at him, ashamed that her body could betray her so easily. He reached up and turned her face towards him, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes which were previously silver with anger were now dark with passion she was unable to conceal. He reached behind her, unknotting the cloth at the nape of her neck and removed the gag. Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke, near to tears "please…don't do this, what do you want from me?"

He leaned down and kissed her deeply, his tongue pushing past her lips to explore the inside of her mouth. She could not help but return his kiss, his lips gentle, warm and teasing. As he withdrew, he sucked her lower lip into his mouth, savouring the taste of her. His face, just inches from hers, he studied her, her eyes were closed and her lips slightly parted.

He waited for her to open her eyes, then he smiled "I should think it's pretty obvious by now what I want", his index finger slowly traced a path down her cheek and gently across her parted lips, "...what we _both_ want."

She turned her face away from him again and he leaned closer, his lips this time nearly brushing her ear as he spoke, his voice low, husky with desire "_it's my turn now_."

He pushed himself up and off the bed. Her head snapped back at his words, her eyes widening and watching him intently as he quickly removed his clothes until he stood naked by the bed. This time, he was facing the window and his whole body was bathed in moonlight. She was unable to turn away from him, transfixed, like a wild animal in the headlights of a speeding car.

MacLeod was ruggedly handsome. From the line of his jaw, to his broad shoulders, his lithe, muscular arms, his chest, his toned, flat stomach and his strong, well-shaped hands which had given her so much pleasure. His desire for her was blatantly apparent and his control dissipating rapidly as he watched her, her wrists cuffed to the bed, helpless and displayed for his pleasure. Her long, dark hair lay dishevelled across the pillow, a few damp tendrils curling across her neck and forehead. The shoulder straps of her nightdress were pushed down; exposing her breasts and her long, pale legs glowed in the moonlight. The dark hair between the top of her thighs was a soft shadow holding promise of her warm sweetness and further pleasure to come.

As Duncan MacLeod studied her, his erection began to throb painfully, his iron control almost gone. He squatted by the bed, leaned close and kissed her, his hand behind her head so she could not pull away. Her lips were reluctant at first, still and unmoving, but as his lips caressed hers and his tongue explored her mouth, she responded. Nervously at first, then boldly as the kiss deepened. His hand moved slowly, down her back to her buttocks. He squeezed them gently before moving on to caress her thigh, his calloused palm warm, his fingers curving to the shape of her leg as his hand moved up, caressing. Her thighs, which had been firmly pressed together, were slowly relaxing as she was distracted by his kiss and his hand as it moved sensuously over them.

His lips left hers as he climbed back onto the bed and gently parted her legs with his hands. Her head rose quickly from the pillow and she gasped as she felt his hair tickle the insides of her thighs just before his tongue entered her. He savoured her taste and the scent of her arousal as his tongue and mouth worked diligently to bring her back to the height of pleasure. He knew by the sounds coming from her lips and the contortions of her body that she was ready for him, so he moved between her legs and entered her. She accommodated him easily, her core hot and moist as he thrust, gently at first, then with more urgency as he felt his climax approach. He squeezed her breast then rolled her nipple between his thumb and finger as he took her other breast into his mouth and sucked.

For the second time that night, she climaxed, shuddering and moving against him just moments before he exploded inside her, equalling her release with the intensity of his own. She gasped and moaned, forgetting to breathe momentarily as she rose on a pinnacle of pleasure, her back arched, her head thrown back, pushing down into the pillow. Duncan's hand slid up her back to the nape of her neck as his face drew near to hers. He gazed at her intently, waiting for her to look at him. He found that he desperately wanted to look at her face, to see the expression of the intense passion they were both feeling.

When she did look at him, their eyes locked, then… the second surge hit him full on as he exploded inside her again, his warmth filling her, causing her to climax again. She wrapped her legs around him, locking them together as they moved in unison to the rhythm of their bodies, her wrists pulling frantically against the cuffs as she instinctively fought to free her hands which, so badly, wanted to touch him as he had touched her. He reached up and grasped her wrists, concerned that she might hurt herself as she twisted and pulled against the metal.

Her voice was barely audible as she gasped breathlessly, "untie me...please..."

The decision already made, he flicked a hidden catch on each of the steel cuffs releasing her wrists. Her slim hands went to his broad back, caressing him, enjoying the play of his muscles under her hands as they moved. MacLeod grinned and repositioned his elbows on either side of her upper arms then slid his hands under her back, pressing her tightly against his chest. He could feel her nipples, still hard, against him. He kissed her again, then rolled over quickly onto his back, swinging her on top of him, both of them laughing as her long hair fell over his neck and chest. She burrowed her head into the hollow of his neck, her teeth grazing his chest playfully as she planted her knees on either side of his hips and her palms flat on the mattress as she tried to sit up, but Duncan still held her tight against him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

She laughed "I'm going to get my sword," then she looked at him mischievously and whispered "after all, you've pierced me with your sword, _now it's my turn_."

She wriggled and his arms tightened around her "you're not going anywhere _near_ that sword, you might cut yourself."

"Ah, but Duncan, that's not fair, just for tonight I'm supposed to be immortal, like you." She planted a soft kiss on his chest, then bit him, just hard enough to make him wince. "Ow! What was that for?"

She looked up at him, amusement shining in her eyes. "That was revenge...for the gag." She smiled, musing to herself, "it was nice though, an amazing turn on."

He grinned at her and she felt him stir again inside her, "maybe I should keep you gagged all the time."

She laughed "maybe you should, but tomorrow night, I want to be the one hunting you."

His eyes glowed with anticipation in the darkness as he thought ahead to their next 'game'. He took her hand gently and lifted it to his lips in a courtly gesture "your wish is my command, my lady," then, unexpectedly, his arm tightened around her waist and he quickly rolled over, pinning her beneath him as she felt him grow hard again inside her. He picked up the discarded gag from the pillow, "but tonight…"

The End


End file.
